


Harry (You're a Fine Dad)

by assassin_trifecta



Series: Actual Dad Harrison Wells [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Actual dad Harrison Wells, F/M, Homo magi, You can't tell me that he doesn't dance like an old white dad, actual dork Harrison Wells, and nothing will stop me, because he is, reader is a Homo magi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-27
Updated: 2016-07-27
Packaged: 2018-07-27 02:16:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7599481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assassin_trifecta/pseuds/assassin_trifecta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harrison Wells is a hard-working, single father that just wants to be able to blow off some steam while he's doing intricate calculations and figuring out the hidden meaning of the SpeedForce. Reader just wants to study her magic in peace. Neither of them get what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Harry (You're a Fine Dad)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [seruphim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/seruphim/gifts).



> The song in the background of this is Brandy (You're a Fine Girl) by Looking Glass. I implore you to listen while you're reading for Full Reader Immersion. It's great. Also, Harry is 100% certain the classics are the only constant between universes.

Late nights were relatively quiet in S.T.A.R. Labs, unless, of course, there was some major city-wide crisis to be solved. But there was nothing tonight. Barry was at home with Joe and Iris, Cisco and Caitlyn had gone hours before, and you were left alone with the enigmatic Harrison Wells from the second Earth. Harry, as you had all taken to calling him to avoid confusion with this world’s late scientist, used to pull late hours searching for his daughter, but ever since Jesse had come back to him he’d been… almost jovial. He’d started sleeping more, avoiding late nights so that he wouldn’t wake Jesse when he went to bed for the night. And that meant that, in the early hours of the morning, you usually had the place to yourself.

                Which made it strange for you to hear music coming from the cortex as you walked down the hallway.

                You approached quietly, slowing your footsteps so that you could place them carefully and not startle whoever was listening to the absolute worst best songs of the 70s. You had been a part of the S.T.A.R. Labs team since your metahuman abilities manifested while Barry was still in a coma, and you were almost certain that no one had _this_ stuff on their playlist. Before he’d been a confessed murderer trying to steal Barry’s speed, Dr. Wells had listened to mostly classical. Cisco went with hip hop, some pop. Caitlyn you hadn’t really caught listening to much music, but Barry was mostly pop punk with a touch of whatever was on the Top 100.

                You had it narrowed down to one unbelievable person when you stepped into the cortex and saw it.

                You hadn’t heard _Brandy_ since your dad passed a few years ago, and you certainly hadn’t seen anyone dance like _that_ in just as long.

                Hunched slightly at the waist over his desk, research papers sprawled in front of him, Harry Wells shuffled a few steps back and forth, shoulders tight together as he swayed his hips _just so_ to the rhythm, his fingers snapping to the tune every so often when he wasn’t holding a whiteboard marker or a pen. It was a dance you were familiar with, a dance that anyone who grew up with their father would know. It came from years of being hunched over, holding their child’s hands and shuffling along with them. You didn’t doubt for a second that Harry had done the same with his daughter that your father had done with you.

                It was a dad dance. And it was _embarrassing_ just to watch.

                The whole thing looked so out of place on the normally stoic scientist that you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of your throat. You slapped your hand over your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself, but the damage had already been done. Harry froze, straightened, and sent such a withering glare at you that you were sure you would have melted on the spot if you were a regular human. But you weren't, and you were sure it was the sheer force of your magic that kept you standing – and _laughing_ – as Harrison Wells glared you down.

                You had gone into the cortex to continue to study your newfound magical metahuman abilities where there was more desk space than the bunker that you had taken shelter in, but you held your hands up in defeat, unable to stop the giggles that still slipped past your lips. It looked like you would be stuck at your little desk for a while longer, but after that gift of a display you weren’t sure you cared.

                “Please, by all means,” you laughed, shaking your head as you turned on your heels away from him. “Keep it up. I won’t let anyone know you’re such a _dork_!”

**Author's Note:**

> I'd like to devote this to tumblr user sorceressofsass who completes me, and also my own father, who I've recently lost, who was basically the master of the White Dad Shuffle.


End file.
